The Party
by TamarinaDC
Summary: The morning after her wedding,Uhura remembers a party she attended with Spock that caused quite a stir. First real sexy M story.


Thanks to everyone who has read and enjoyed my other stories- this one follows "Touching and Touched." The amazing Dr. Spleenmeister, the mistress of the "M" rating and sex-scene editor extraordinaire, was gracious enough to beta this one for me, and I appreciate her time and energy- all mistakes are my own. Now that my computer is working again (it was in the shop for 2 weeks!), I hope to have some more stories available soon. Oh, and my corner of the Spock/Uhura universe is a "no angst" zone- plenty of fluff, and the occasional naughty bits/sexytimes, but I leave it up to the others to write suffering.

STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY- It's Paramount's universe, I just play around in it occasionally.

N.B.- "Amira" is Arabic for "princess". "Emir" is Arabic for "prince." Arabic is widely spoken in Africa. See "Cuddlebug" for the origin of Spock and Uhura's pet names for each other.

THE PARTY

Nyota woke up the morning after her wedding as happy as she'd ever been. Even in sleep, she could still feel her bond with her husband, his presence reassuring. It was seldom that she awakened first, considering how much less sleep Vulcans needed, but she could sense that he was still asleep. She, however, needed to use the sanitary cubicle.

She stood, and the soreness in various places in her body reminded her of the wonderful wedding night she's had. Spock, still sensing her presence, reached for her; she reached out her fingers, touched hers, and thought, Sleep, my dear one. I will be back soon. He turned over, content, and resumed his slumber.

She made her way to the cubicle, and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Although her skin was dark, there were still bruises visible on her upper arms, and a bite mark (not a passion mark, as her g randmother used to call hickeys, but an honest to-God bite ) on her neck. Her hair was tangled and the makeup she hadn't had time to remove last night was smeared all over her face.

She looked like the victim of a violent attack. She'd never felt better.

Still, she thought it best to perform her ablutions before going back to bed, She took a quick shower, washed her face thoroughly, ran a brush through her hair, and applied some ointment to her neck.

Idly, she thought of the things they needed to do before going back to the ship- returning to Sarek and T'Pyra's to say goodbye to the family, making sure they'd packed everything, and preparing for the party that she knew would be waiting for them...

And then she remembered another party with Spock, and smiled. . .

**

The crew of the Enterprise loved to party.

One could blame it on the youthful exuberance of the youngest captain in Starfleet, or the long stretches of time in space where people couldn't exactly relax, but where people didn't exactly have a lot to do, either.. For whatever reason or combination of reasons, the crew took any opportunity- birthdays, promotions, Wednesdays- to turn the rec room into a club. Granted that alcohol was technically forbidden on Federation ships- somehow, it still kept managing to find its way to these celebrations. Imagine that.

Today's festivities were in honor of Lieutenant Uhura's third paper this year pu blished in the Journal of Xenolinguistics. Several of her girlfriends had decided to throw her a party with her favorite current music.. She was going through a 20th century dance and R+B phase, which explained the thumping bass currently issuing from the speakers. Her friends , who knew of Nyota's eclectic taste in music, were just glad they could dance to it- they had contemplated a party when she had published her second paper, but she had been an a chamber music phase, and no one wanted to learn the minuet.

Kirk, who never missed one of these informal shindigs, saw Spock standing unobtrusively on the left side of the doorway. He was watching the lieutenant dancing with her girlfriends while an undetermined number of male eyes watched her. Kirk waked over to his first officer, glad to see him, but also noticing the tension in his stance.

"Glad you could make it, Spock. You must be very proud of Lieutenant Uhura's most recent publication."

Spock inclined his head slightly. "I am pleased her work is being so well-received. Her last two articles were also excellent."

Even as he answered the captain, Jim could tell Spock wasn't really paying attention to him. Turning back to look at the dance floor, he could see Uhura dancing with two blonde women, one from Engineering, and one from Medical.

"Girls have been dancing together like that since my great grandfather's days. I think it 's more fun for them to dance together than it is to have a guy ask them," Jim mused.

Spock agreed. "I have observed this in several social situations where dancing of this type occurs." He paused, and added, "I have not seen the Lieutenant dancing quite like this before." Since Spock and Uhura's relationship had become intimate, Uhura had been very careful not to hug or touch any other men in a way that would make Spock uncomfortable. This had initially been difficult for someone like Nyota, who was very affectionate by nature, but she had adjusted to greeting her male friends with a smile and a nod instead of a hug. And she wasn't dancing with any men now- but the men watching her unsettled him.

Kirk waved him off. "Spock, I'll bet she's been dancing like that since she was 12 at her first school dance. She's only having fun."

"Nevertheless, I have never seen her execute those particular gyrations." The music had switched, and now she and her friends were doing some line dance Kirk didn't recognize. He did note that it involved considerable hip movements.

"Spock, she's only having fun. She hasn't tried to stop you from being who you are- you shouldn't try to stop her from being herself."

Just then, the subject of their conversation looked up and spotted the captain and Spock talking to each other. She said something quickly to her friends on the dance floor, and ran over to the the two officers.

"Captain, Commander, thank you both for coming!" She was perspiring from her exertions on the dance floor, and the flush to her cheeks made her look radiant.

"Congratulations, Lieutenant- you know I never miss a party." He smiled that Kirk grin that made most women want to clasp him to their bosoms.

"Ensign Tillman wanted to know if you'd join her on the dance floor, Captain." Tillman was the blond from Security. She was a bit taller and more muscular than Kirk usually liked, but he was never one to shy away from a challenge. He nodded at Spock and Uhura, and made his way over to the smiling ensign.

"Shall we go?" she asked, brushing slightly against his left hand.

"Isn't it customary for the guest of honor to stay for the duration of the celebration?"

"Normally, that would be the case- but this was basically just an excuse to let off some steam. My paper got the party started- the girls can keep it going perfectly fine without me."

They left the room, the music still pumping behind them. Nyota continued to sing a little to herself, and sort of danced/skipped down the corridor to the beat of the music that was rapidly receding into the distance.

"Do you wish to return to the party?" he asked, somewhat confused to see her still dancing to music that wasn't there anymore.

She laughed. "No, I'm fine, really- but I admit that it was fun while it lasted. It's been a while since I've been dancing."

They reached Spock's quarters and entered. As soon as the doors closed behind them, she began shedding her sweaty uniform (she had gone directly from her bridge shift to the party) and headed for Spock's shower.

"Be right back- just need to rinse off." She disappeared into the sanitary cubicle, leaving a trail of clothes (which she knew he would pick up and place in the 'fresher, as was his custom)..

Spock removed his uniform and changed into what Nyota called his 'ninja jammies'- loose fitting black pants, a black tunic, and slippers. By the time he had taken care of his own clothes, she was out of the shower, hair unfastened, makeup removed, wearing only the robe she kept in his quarters. It was the way he liked her best, and he crossed the room to kiss her for the first time since that morning. But she sensed something in is kiss, or his touch that wasn't quite right. She looked at him with concern.

"What's wrong- what do you need to speak to me about?"

He wasn't quite sure how to address the subject. "I am... uncertain as to how best discuss this matter with you. It is about your dancing tonight." She started to say something, but he gestured for her to hear out what he was say ing. "I understand that you enjoy dancing, and I know you have done so all your life. I also know that you dance only with your female friends, and not with any males. You have given me no reason to feel insecure in our relationship. Nevertheless, I find myself reacting when I see men watching you dance." Spock looked down at his feet.

"Are you telling me that my dancing makes you jealous?" she asked..

"It is illogical, I know. Nevertheless, I cannot deny that when I see men look at you I am... ill at-ease."

Nyota was quiet for a moment, processing this particular piece of information.

"Well, " she said, "I'm not going to stop dancing. I don't get to do it much, and when I do I enjoy it."

Spock acknowledged that it would not be fair to her if he asked her to give up something she enjoyed.

"So, my emir, you have two choices, as I see it, considering that you can't throttle every man who looks at me. You can do what I do when I catch women checking you out."

"Checking me out- you mean, women are assessing me physically?" He looked genuinely surprised.

Nyota looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "Spock, 75 percent of the heterosexual women on this ship would ravish you right on the bridge if you let them, and the other 25 would buy tickets to watch- and I'd lay odds that 90% of the lesbians would also be willing to give it a try. I've seen them looking at you in the gym, when you're in the mess hall, when you're on duty... and don't forget, some of these women are foolish enough to to chat to each other over the ship's comm. Trust me when I tell you that I have had to deal with my own jealousy. And don't even get me started with the men..."

Spock's eyebrows shot clear up underneath his bangs, and he cut her off quickly. "So how do you deal with this issue when it arises?

She slid her hand across his chest, looking for the place where she could get under the tunic and access his bare skin. "Well," she said, her voice lower, but still with a smile in it, "I just keep reminding myself that I have what they want, and that they'll never know what they're missing." She steered him backwards towards the bed and pulled him down onto it, still talking, and still smiling. "They don't have the faintest idea how amazing you are in bed," she kissed his neck, whispering into his extremely sensitive ear. "Dear God, if they knew how well you eat pussy, I'd have even more trouble."

He flushed, unused to hearing her use such language (except when she was deep in the throes of her "arousal-induced glossolalia"), but it excited him. He reached for her body, which was wonderfully accessible under her robe, and she slipped the tunic off over his head. His pants and undershorts came off just as quickly.

"Tell me more, _amira_," he asked, his voice low and controlled. His fingertips trailed lightly across her stomach and between her breasts.

She smiled, enjoying the sensation of his hand on her body.

"They want you. But you don't even notice them. The harder they try, the more oblivious you are to their efforts." His fingers grazed over her nipple, causing a shiver to run through her body. His other hand skimmed lightly across her inner thighs. He continued teasing her, coming as close as he could to her sensitive places without actually touching them. He could tell she was becoming aroused both by his hands on her body and by his reaction to her own words; she could feel herself becoming slippery and wet.

"Roll onto your back, my _emir_, " He complied, and she straddled his body. This was probably his favorite sexual position; it allowed him to see her face while he pleasured her. Nyota shed her robe entirely, and he felt the cool silk slip onto his legs. She pushed it aside, and then leaned forward, running her hands across his chest.

"You are so strong, and your body is so beautiful, my prince," she continued, whispering as she kissed his chest. "But no one knows that the cool, detached Vulcan loves spending time teasing every orgasm out of me before I collapse." She maneuvered herself until she was right above his erection, and slid it inside her. Her mouth formed an "o" of pleasure as as moved back and forth, and her hand strayed down between her own legs, pleasing herself. "And no one knows how much you like me just as I am now, so you can watch every expression on my face."

And as much as he usually enjoyed watching her, tonight he closed his eyes and listened, enjoying sound of her voice and her slippery wetness. He groaned, and then gasped, "More, my _amira_. Talk to me."

Nyota continued moving back and forth, her hair swaying gently. "Do you like hearing me talk dirty, Commander?" she teased, with that little lilt in her voice.

"I find that I do, Lieutenant."

"Then I suggest you provide me with more inspiration." She still had that sexy tone in her voice, but she was clearly issuing a challenge. And she knew full well Spock could not resist a challenge.

He considered his options , and then gripped her waist and turned her onto her back. Her eyes widened in surprise, and with delight. He slipped out of her and moved down her body, trailing his tongue along her skin.

"_Amira_..." he whispered, kissing her her neck, her breasts, her belly. She closed her eyes, anticipating the sensation of his tongue on her most sensitive place, and she was not disappointed.

She sighed, he reached his destination, and his aforementioned expertise came into play.

"You're amazing," she whispered, feeling his tongue teasing her , applying the delicate, feather-light strokes she adored. "No one knows how much the Commander loves spending time with his tongue between my legs, licking my clit, and how much he loves feeling me come." She gasped as he slid his fingers inside her, and then gasped again in earnest as he started to do something (she wasn't sure what) that sent her closer and closer to the edge. "You've been studying again, my prince," she whispered, as he continued to use whatever new technique he had read about to bring her closer to completion. And it was working. She could feel her climax approaching- "So good, don't stop, more, yes," she breathed deliriously, in Vulcan, Swahili, Japanese, Andorian.

Just as she was about to go over the brink, Spock quickly repositioned himself inside her in a transition that was so smooth and fluid, any observer would have thought they had choreographed it. Before she could process what was happening, he was on top of her, and husked into her ear, "Your pleasure is my responsibility. You will always be satisfied." He felt her body shuddering beneath him, heard her call his name as her body gave itself over to the orgasm. She was still for a moment basking in her afterglow, then kissed him, tasting herself on his lips.

He remained inside her, still hard, he was yet to attain his own release. She whispered, "Now you're just showing off," and the corners of his mouth twitched just a bit.

"Perhaps," he allowed, and moved his hips in such a way as to make her gasp again, " or perhaps I would just enjoy some additional auditory stimulation."

She laughed, and wrapped her legs around his back. He began to rock slowly back and forth, in a rhythm he he knew pleased them both (being a touch telepath definitely had its advantages).

Nyota's voice continued, as silky and soft as before. "No matter how much they look, no man can touch me. I belong to you. I chose you. No one else. Only you." The submissive words excited him, and he began to move faster, erratically, feeling his own climax nearing.

"You chose me. You are mine," he whispered in Vulcan, his voice harsher and raspier than before. He climaxed hard, blood pounding in his ears, and lights flashing behind his closed eyes.

He rolled off her, exhausted, but heard her murmur her assent.

"I chose you. I am yours."

He wrapped his arms around her, kissing the back of her neck. "Always, _amira_. Always."

They lay next to each other for a long time, utterly content. Nyota almost purred as she snugged up next to his deliciously warm body. Although she was not psychic, she did not need to be in order to know that her partner was as satisfied as she.

"_Amira_, you said there were two things I could do address my concerns about watching you dance."

She stretched, then laughed. "Oh- well, the other way- it's a lot harder. You think you're up for it?"

Spock allowed himself a slight frown. "Nyota, when have you ever known me to turn away from a challenge?"

Once again, she laughed. Not yet. But we shall see."

*

Two weeks later, the party in the rec room was nominally for Security Officer Richardson, who had just earned his black belt in some obsure Tellarite martial art. As usual, everyone just wanted an excuse to let loose- the music was still pumpin', the lights were still flashing, and the Captain was still on the prowl.

Jim knew full well he couldn't sleep with the women in his crew-he was many things, but not a fool. However, Starfleet regulations said nothing about dancing with crew members, which is what he was preparing to do when he finished another "how did this illegal alcohol get on my ship?" beverage. Right now, he was watching several women, including Lieutenant Uhura, all dancing with each other. Then the song ended and another came on- one that, judging by the whoops and hollers he heard, was a particular favorite.

"Captain." Jim heard his first officer's voice behind him. Kirk turned, surprised.

"Spock- I'm surprised to see you here. I didn't know you knew Richards."

"I do not, but do congratulate him on his accomplishment. Tellarite martial arts offer an interesting physical challenge. But I am here because of Lieutenant Uhura."

"Ah- she and the other women just heard their favorite song come on.."

"I see- please excuse me, Captain." And then Kirk saw something he did not ever believe he'd see- Spock strode out on the dance floor, took Uhura's hand, and started dancing.

This was not the formal, chaste waltz of a diplomatic ball- Spock was moving with Uhura step for step, turn for turn- in 20th century vernacular, he and Uhura t_ore it up_. Where the stiff first officer had gone, Kirk had no idea; the man out on the dance floor grooving with his communications officer seemed another being entirely.

The effect Spock had on the entire room was electric. Communicators came out all across the room and people began sending messages to each other all over the ship. Forty-five seconds after he had stepped out onto the dance floor, every person not on duty was either crowding into the rec room or trying to crowd in, all wanting to see Spock dance.

By the time the song ended, it was also apparent to every man, woman and intersex in the room that Spock and Uhura were a couple. The two had, of course, been the subject of ship's gossip for months, but had never made their relationship public. However, everyone who saw them knew that anyone trying to move in on either one was either a fool or had a death wish. Mc Coy, who had raced from Sickbay to see the show, was still shaking his head as he watched the couple slow dance. "I am just amazed I lived to see it. That woman's teaching him everything she knows. Amazing."

Part of Jim was still reeling. "Bones, he had _moves_! I will accept that Vulcans have superior physical strength, and incredible intellects, but they are not supposed to be able to tear up a dance floor! That is just wrong and totally unfair!"

"And yet the universe is notoriously unfair." Jim turned around to see the (now very established) couple standing beside him. Spock had resumed his usual facial expression, but Nyota was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

So how did I do as a dance instructor, gentleman?" she asked, delighting in the expressions on McCoy and Kirk's faces.

"I would not have believed it if I hadn't seen it," Kirk responded. "I'm considering recommending an immediate transfer to the diplomatic corps for you- anyone who can convince my First Officer to dance like that in public has powers of persuasion beyond those of mere mortals."

"You could have just taken each other right there on the dance floor- it would have made your point equally well," McCoy added.

"Would have messed up my hair," replied Nyota.

"If you gentleman would excuse us..." Spock and Nyota nodded their farewells to the two men, and left together. The room was still buzzing when they departed.

Nyota held it together until they reached a deserted corridor close to her quarters- then, she burst out laughing.

"Was that not perfect, my _emir_? Was it worth learning to dance just to see the expressions on their faces?"

He allowed himself that echo of a smile that Nyota had come to regard as her own.

"Yes, my _amira_- I do believe the time invested was worth the reward. But, I am less concerned about the expressions on their faces..." he said, as the door to her quarters slid open to admit them, "...than I am about seeing certain expressions on yours."

She smiled her best sexy smile. "I dare you."

"You know I take all challenges seriously, my princess."

"That is what I am counting on, my prince," she said, as the door slid shut behind them.

**

Nyota thought back on the whole experience, and remembered one of the things Spock had said- her pleasure was his responsibility. At the time, she had thought it simply a remark made in the heat of passion, but after T'Pyra's conversation, it became far more significant. He had endeavored to be a caring lover not just because he wanted to (which he certainly did- and his penchant for studying paid off in new and satisfying ways for him to please her ), but because it was part of his cultural ethos. She was entitled to pleasure, and he was responsible for providing it.

A girl could do much worse. And a few bumps and bruises were a small price for that kind of passion and devotion- one she was more than willing to pay.

She returned to bed, and slid in next to her now-awake husband. She noted, with some measure of amusement, that Spock had a number of scratches across his chest and back, as well as bruises on his arms and a few well-placed bite marks of his own.

You need to tend to your own bruises and scrapes before we return to the ship, my _emir_.

I will do so- but admit that I consider them hard-won badges of honor.

She smiled at his husband, we have a party to attend once we get back on board- do you know it is traditional at wedding receptions for the bride and groom to have a special first dance with each other?

I have heard of this tradition- are you suggesting we dance together once we return to the ship?

I am.

I have no objection to this- but I will remind you that I may become quite... inspired... after I dance with you.

Believe me when I say I would not have it any other other way, She kissed him, and she could feel the passion rising in him through the bond. We have another hour or so before we need to prepare for our return- do you have any suggestions as to how we might spend that time?

Indeed I might. And he spent the next 57 minutes demonstrating his latest find (a technique gleaned from a relatively obscure Japanese 19th century illustrated manual for newlyweds). It was greeted with great enthusiasm.


End file.
